


even the tiniest of flowers, sometimes have the toughest roots

by the_strangest_person



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Conversations, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Extended Scene, Fluff, Gilbert Blythe is Whipped, Idiots in Love, Language of Flowers, Love, Mutual Pining, Shirbert, Take Notice Board, These two are adorable, how the train scene should have gone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-23 10:29:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23109946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_strangest_person/pseuds/the_strangest_person
Summary: "maybe knowing that he had always tried to be her friend underneath all the misunderstandings, maybe it scared her to realize that in a world full of everyone trying to leave her, he had only ever tried to stay."~ the train scene from 3x02 that we all deserved, with a generous helping of fluff~
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 28
Kudos: 301





	even the tiniest of flowers, sometimes have the toughest roots

**Author's Note:**

> if you wanted to the train scene to finish with them becoming closer, almost flirting and the purple flower ending up in the hands of our bride of adventure - read this and let yourself smile.

Anne could still remember the moment she decided to look beneath the surface. When she first met Gilbert, he was just another face among the others, trying his best to humiliate her in any way that he could. He may have been smart - _obnoxiously smart_ \- and polite to those around him, holding the doors open for the girls and tipping his hats to strangers, but she refused to let him be an important part of her story. But as she watched the snowflakes settle into his dark hair with that sad look in his eyes, something unfamiliar settled inside her stomach. The guilt felt like ice in her gut and somehow she knew that even if they were in the middle of a blazing summer, she would still feel cold all over. Maybe she was curious as to why he kept trying, even after she pushed him away every single time, or maybe it was the worry in his voice when he spoke to his father. Whatever it was, it was enough for her to see past everything that she had once seen, and for her to wonder if there was anything more lying just underneath his surface. The Gilbert that stood by his father's grave that day with pale skin and that sad look in his eyes, was not the same boy that tugged her braid and stole the attention of every young girl in Avonlea. Instead, he was just another teenage boy with his own hopes and dreams, and most importantly, with his own fears. That was the moment she saw Gilbert Blythe as more than _just a rival._

_"I'm on a deeply meaningful personal journey and I certainly don't need you."_

_"Yes, I've taken notice of that."_

She always put her foot in it with Gilbert. It wasn't like she _wanted_ to be cruel to him, but he was always there, _right there_ whenever she made a fool out of herself. When she wanted to disappear, he was watching Marilla wipe away a smudge on her forehead with a smug smile, or offering his help with her homework or cleaning up every mess that she had made. It made her wonder if a heart could really be filled with so much goodness, or if he took pleasure in teasing her. Before she knew it, the bitter words would spit out of her mouth before she could take them back.

"I'm sorry..." she paused for a moment, licking her lips before collecting her words, "...I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine."

She knew that regret came within the quiet moments, and right there, his empty words and even emptier expression made her stop still. He had pulled his book open to start reading, flicking through the pages carelessly and she noticed that his hands were fumbling. Her face fell, knowing that his stiffness and sudden desire to learn was nothing more than an excuse so that he didn't have to speak to her. She wanted to apologize for her anger, anger that was nothing more than flashes of fire to cover her own weakness, but she didn't know how to apologize for something that she could never control.

"I think you've read that chapter already" she pointed out meekly.

Gilbert gave her a cold look.

She sighed, "Gilbert-"

"It gets tiring, you know?" he mumbled, hoping that his words sounded half-hearted when in reality they were bitter, "...to always end up on the receiving end of your anger. I try to convince myself that we are still friends, but then I start second guessing myself, wondering if we are even friends at all after moments like this...I mean, are we friends?"

Anne looked down at her hands, something behind the simple word making her falter, "...of course we are."

"I don't know..." he huffed a small breath, not looking away from the pages, "...sometimes it really doesn't feel like it. You said so yourself...you don't need me, _right?"_

"I-I said I was-"

"But that's not want friends are for, Anne..." the words were harsh, almost like a slap to the face but his eyes were genuine, "...I've tried to be your friend for a long time and although it hasn't always worked out, I...I never wanted you to need me. I don't want you to feel like you're expected to tell me everything or that you have to ask me for help even if you don't necessarily need it. But _friends_...they are there because they _want_ to be."

The words sunk right through her skin, settling inside of her heart and Anne let herself be truthful for once, "Gilbert, I'm sorry. I have a habit of taking everything out on you and I know that I shouldn't."

_"Why do you?"_

Her voice was barely above a whisper. _"I-I don't know."_

His eyes studied her for a moment, furrowing slightly as if he was testing her, figuring out if he should believe her or not. But maybe she was lying, maybe she had always known why she took her anger out on him and maybe the reason alone was enough to scare her into doing it again. She would be standing right there - filled with so much anger, humiliation, helplessness, with so many _feelings_ and then he would come along and make her feel _even more_. His words would stir more feelings inside of her, feelings that she didn't often understand and his eyes would never be deceitful, never cold or calculating, just _earnest_. In fact, he might have hit the nail on its head, maybe knowing that he had always tried to be her friend underneath all the misunderstandings, maybe it scared her to realize that in a world full of everyone trying to leave her, he had only ever tried to _stay_. If she was being honest with herself, maybe part of her had always wanted him to be the one who stayed. She might have thought it would hurt less to drive him away with her spiteful words and cold demeanor instead of waiting around for him to come to his senses. After all, maybe he liked her spark, but her fire could burn him to ashes if he wasn't careful.

This time, when their eyes met, she didn't let herself break the gaze, _"...I really am sorry."_

His smile was lopsided, "I want you to feel like you can talk to me. You don't have to...I'm not expecting you to tell me everything if you don't want to. But I want you to know that... _you can."_

Anne hoped that her eyes conveyed how much such words meant to her, but she shook her head and bit her lip, "I'm going to be honest with you...without expectation or any intentions."

He nodded, listening intently.

 _"I'm scared..."_ she admitted with a wry smile on her lips, "...I think I'm scared that I'll find something at the orphanage, something that I would rather forget. I'm not entirely sure what I'm looking for but...I'm hoping that it will fill some sort of void inside of me. I've always wondered about my parents and if they loved me, if I'm anything like them. I imagine it's comforting to know that you share something with those who made you because even if they are gone, you will always have a part of them with you. I-I may not to be able to feel a void inside of me right now, but that doesn't mean it isn't there."

Gilbert's eyebrows furrowed. "I...I know that it might be the only place that has answers, but are you sure that you're ready to go back to the orphanage?"

"I'll have to be ready" she nodded, trying to sound firm, "...and I'll have Cole with me this time. I don't think I could bear it if I was going in such a lonely place by myself...I might have ended up running straight back out."

He sent her a sad smile. "I'm glad that you won't be alone."

"Me too."

As their eyes across the seats of the train, it felt as if a bridge had been connected between them. Anne had always stumbled around life, not always knowing which direction she was headed in or where would be safe to take shelter, but there was something about his eyes. It somehow felt more intimate than physical contact, as if they were exchanging something far more important than any touch could offer. They often reminded her of a walk in the woodland and she wondered if that was the reason she could hear birds singing whenever she was around him. Each shade offered the kindness of the trees and the solidity of the soil, strong and never looking to leave her side. The warm shades of green and brown melted together, piercing through her own until she was convinced that he could feel every single thought, every fear that plagued her mind and left her drowning in an ocean of uncertainty. Around him, she always managed to feel a little less lost. They may have been near the end of their journey to the station, but it somehow felt as if they were just at the _beginning._

"Anne?"

She hummed, eyes curious.

"I really hope that you find whatever it is that you're looking for."

**___**

Gilbert had once read that spring buds were sprinkled over the fields, destined to warm up the earth beneath their feet. He was not sure what guided him towards the small purple flower, one that he did not even know the same of, one just as ordinary as any other. It was among the other blossoms and peonies adorning the small table, the only source of decoration in the plain tea room that felt artificial. But he tucked it beside his heart, maybe hoping that it would warm him up from the inside.

It started to feel like he had turned down a completely different road, one that he had never seen before. But it was only when he left Winifred's side that it all started to feel overwhelming. The tall buildings of Charlottetown, the carts and horses, crowds of people - they all looked the same and Gilbert couldn't help feeling that he was moving forward yet somehow going nowhere. He wondered how he was stuck in the middle of a place so familiar, feeling so _lost_. His fingers kept a firm grip on the small flower in his hand, hoping that it would anchor him, but it was not until she sat down beside him that his clouded mind finally cleared. A light may have started to flicker, or perhaps a star twinkled brighter than the rest, like the northern star guiding sailors to the shore. She was nothing more than an echo, but that distant sound was enough for him to pause and consider turning back around, wondering if she could call his name and guide him home. And when he stopped to look at her, he took notice of the faraway look in her eyes and the way that her smile was painted on like a doll. Just by looking further, he could hear her unsteady breaths and his distractions faded away until he was back on the path that they knew, and that was the moment that he wondered if that was all everything else was - _just_ _a distraction_.

He knew that if they spoke in the language of flowers, he had been swept away by the company of a single bud, distracted by its simple beauty. But she was not simple, she was constantly blooming, twisting upwards until she touched the sun. _She_ was an enigma wrapped in the sweetness of a thousand blossoms, a blazing flame of her own in a field full of warmth. 

"Anne?"

She was too raw to hear the question, closing her eyes, "I didn't find anything."

His face fell at the defeated expression on her face, "I'm...I'm sorry."

He didn't receive a reply.

"Do...Do you want to talk about it?"

She was quiet for a while and he pressed his lips together anxiously, afraid that he had said the wrong thing yet again. The train continued forward, chugging along quietly and they could hear the murmurs of the other passengers.

"It was harder than I expected..." she finally whispered, keeping her gaze on the floor as if was reliving every dark moment that she spent trapped there, "...t-to go back in there. I know I could have ended up somewhere much worse but...I didn't think it would be that hard. I just hope that going the church will feel easier...maybe less lonely."

"The church?" he questioned, eyebrows furrowed.

"Cole suspects that the church have records of my parents and their deaths. They cover up so much at _that place_ and I-I need to know for sure that I didn't make anything else up. I'd like to keep going back until I get some more answers...that's if you don't mind taking the train with me again."

He managed a small smile, "I'd be happy to travel with you anytime."

Their hearts were still beating, pounding along to different yet somehow steady rhythms, so whatever fell between them could not have been silence. In fact, whatever it was, it caressed her skin like a cool summer breeze, a gentle blanket covering her before she escaped into the land of dreams. It had been a rough day and there had been so many thoughts overcrowding her mind, that after everything - this sense of _quiet_ was welcomed.

 _"I'm scared"_ she finally whispered.

Gilbert wished that she would meet his eyes.

"I'm scared that I won't ever find anything..." she admitted, sucking in a breath and blinking rapidly, "...that I-I won't ever know, know for sure...that I was loved."

Her words struck at his heart and he realized that all he desperately wanted, all that he had ever wanted, was _to_ _fix her_. While he wouldn't be able to bear it if she changed a single hair on her head, he wanted to tear the sadness from her limbs, defeat the demons in her mind as if they were dragons for him to slay. He wanted to fill her up with so much light until she never knew darkness again, to whisper sweet words over and over until she started to believe them. The half empty train around them faded away, his eyes noticing the scattered freckles that coated her hands, just a few shades darker than her pale skin. Her fingers were small and delicate with chewed nails, but they could rip the sky apart if she wanted to, they could cast bewitching spells and shake mountains. Before he could think any better of it, he laid his hand tenderly on her own. They both sucked in a small breath and her eyes snapped up to meet his, wide and conflicted. He was waiting for her to pull away or to smack another slate over his head, but her hand stayed tense underneath his and after a moment, he could almost feel it relax under his touch. She made him feel like he could plant his feet firmly on the ground, feeling the soil beneath his feet without needing her to guide him on the right path. He felt rooted in a way that he never had before, and instead of following wherever the spirit moved him, he wondered if the spirit had only ever wanted to stay by her side. It was a feeling that was strange yet it had the power to stretch through his entire body, feeling so at home that it made him wonder if it had always been there.

He had heard that love was unspoken, that it could creep up on you through the years like a familiar face always shining in the darkness, right up until it caught you by surprise. When he sat down at the stiff tea table, waiting patiently for Winifred to pour the tea, wishing that he could snatch it right out of her hands - he couldn't find anything to say. She was looking at him with some level of expectation, waiting for him to say something but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't work out what she wanted to hear. It felt like a learning process : strict rules, societal pressures and clear intentions. But when Anne gently wrapped her fingers around his own, her eyes did not once stray away from his. No words were exchanged but he could somehow understand everything that she was trying to convey, it was all shining back through his own eyes, a language of their own. He somehow knew that nobody else would be able to understand and selfishly, he wanted to keep her secret messages close by his heart and carry them with him forever. After all, some things were better off _unsaid._

**___**

"Currant wine!?"

"I thought it was raspberry cordial!"

"A-And you and Diana..." he smirked at her boyishly, "...I thought hoping the freight was the most-"

"You think that was the worst?" she raised an eyebrow in challenge, giggling as they strolled through the trees, "...did I ever tell you about when I dressed up as a boy in Charlottetown?"

Gilbert shook his head in disbelief, _"You're something else, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert."_

It was funny how quickly things had changed between them, and how easily it all was. One moment he had asked her in a soft voice if he could walk her home (assuring her that he did not believe she needed assistance, he just enjoyed her company) and she had accepted with a small smile. Next thing, that slight twitch of her lips had turned into a beaming grin, dimples appearing on her cheeks and the corners of her eyes crinkling happily as she told him stories. They passed a small brook and Anne walked over the makeshift bridge, confessing how many afternoons she had spent in the company of nature, orchestrating her own symphony from the sounds of the woodland. Her small form twirled around the trees in the light of the sunset, Gilbert watching her with a curious twinkle in his eye at how she would mature through the years. It felt strange to imagine Anne straying away from her carefree attitude, to picture her stuck inside rather than basking in the sunlight with laughter in her soul. He could only hope that deep down, she would never change.

"Where do you see yourself in ten years?"

He groaned, kicking a rock. "That's a difficult question."

"Why?"

"There's a big difference between where I want to be in ten years time, and where I'll actually end up."

She fixed him with a stare. "What do you _want?"_

He thought for a moment, a fond smile melting across his face, "...I want to be working in a practice somewhere, finding new cures and preventative medicines. I want to help people, to save them...", he glanced up and saw how Anne was looking at him, "...is that silly?"

Anne smiled, shaking her head. "I think it sounds simply thrilling."

"Me too."

She urged him on, eyes shining, "What else?"

Gilbert opened his mouth to reply but stopped short, remembering Winifred's rules about conversation and discussing the future. She had made it sound so unnecessary, as if dreams were nothing more than something to imagine. He suddenly felt childish disclosing to a friend all of the intimate matters of his heart, being openly honest in a way that he couldn't be with anyone else. It made him falter slightly, wondering why Anne always seemed to understand instead of brushing his nonsense off. _"I-I...it's not important, really."_

But Anne reached up to touch the tallest leaves on a branch, giggling as she stood on her tiptoes, _"...I want to know!",_ she said it like it was so simple, glancing back at him impatiently and he could never refuse her.

"I've always wanted a family..." he admitted as she joined him on the path again, "...we were a large family for a while and it was always nice to have a bit of noise. I would help them with school and then work at the practice...and of course visit Bash, Mary and Delphine...I just want to be surrounded by family."

His words wrapped around her heart like a comforting hug, warming her up from the inside, "That sounds beautiful."

Her words felt like a breath of fresh air and he turned to her with raised eyebrows "Oh, come on! You have to tell me now, what does Anne Shirley-Cuthbert see in her future?"

"I decided that a long time ago."

"Well?"

"I'm going to be the _bride of adventure."_

"What does that mean?"

"It means that adventure is my only soulmate."

Gilbert frowned, "...Well, surely you could get married and still have a life full of adventure?...with the right person, of course."

Anne thought to herself for a moment, biting her lip, "...If it was with the right person, then I would want us to be equals. I would want them to accomplish their own dreams and to see me as someone destined for more than just staying inside with the children. I told you that I want to be a teacher like Miss Stacey, but I think I would want my own family one day. As long as I'm always surrounded by nature in beautiful Avonlea...", she bent down to pick up a handful of grass and then let it flutter down to the ground, "...I imagine I could always be perfectly happy."

"I noticed how many flowers you pick on the way to school..." he teased.

"Gilbert?" she asked hesitantly, "...can I ask you something?"

He nodded.

They approached the gate quickly, Green Gables just down the lane and they stopped for a moment. Anne leaned her elbows against it, feeling the wood dig into the material of her blue jacket as she watched Gilbert. His own hands were in his pocket, hands that had rested on her own during the train journey and her cheeks suddenly warmed in the light of the sunset.

"Why did you mention the take notice board earlier?"

From such a simple question, the tips of his ears turned pink and she started to notice things that she didn't before. She wondered if his heart was made out of honey, smelling sweet enough in a way that always pulled her towards his presence, as if he was the center of her gravity. Somehow his beauty came from within and it made her wonder what it would feel like to be wrapped up in his arms, if it would lift them both up to the sky like a hot air balloon. She wondered if his curls were even messier in the morning, or if the afternoon breeze was to blame. His hand reached up to run through them, another bad habit when he was nervous, something that she had often noticed from the other side of the classroom. He always managed to take her by surprise and she wondered if she would keep noticing those little details about him. He was noble and strong in his manner like a prince, with the playful and mischievous eyes of a villain, but never with any ill intentions at heart. Most of all, she noticed that when he said _'taken notice'_ , he spat the words out, they did not hold his usual carefree edge, as if they pained him.

He watched her as if expecting her to instantly disagree, "...I just don't see the fuss about it. I see everyone fawning over it every day, and I just...I don't understand it."

"It's embarrassingly public..." Anne admitted.

 _"Exactly!"_ he nodded enthusiastically, shrugging lightly, "...I suppose that if you really do... _like someone_...posting on a board about your feelings is hardly private and I think feelings are meant to be private. If that day comes and you feel something for someone... _you should tell them."_

She felt strangely breathless, "...you should take the risk..."

 _"E-Even if you're scared..."_ he murmured.

Anne's voice was merely a whisper in return, _"...Even if you're terrified."_

The blazing orange sky started to soften, peeking through the trees as if it was letting the world go quiet just for them and even though they were speaking their own language, they were both left without a word to say. There had never been a barrier before, but the bridge between them started to shake, losing its usual stability. As the sun disappeared between them, something was ending but they both stood still where they were. They exchanged secret smiles and the moment felt like watching sunlight through a window, sprinkled with rainbow diamond shapes that danced across their skin. Neither of them wanted to leave but there was a promise of dusk and they knew that dusk would soon fade into the night sky, that time could not stay paused forever. Anne wanted to lasso the moon and the stars, pulling the rope tight around them so that they could stay drenched in the honey glaze of the sunset.

Gilbert nervously adjusted his jacket and felt the delicate petals of the flower beneath the material, stopping short. His fingers wrapped around them and he could only imagine it in the hands of the bridge of adventure. A girl with hair that reminded him of a river of fire, eyes an impossibly blue ocean, their own shade of cerulean. He heard her sharp intake of breath as he lifted her pale hand so that he could offer her the gift, dropping the flower into her palm.

Her eyes met his, questioning.

 _"It's for you..."_ his voice was soft.

Her face lit up like a kaleidoscope of diamonds, her hand lifting the purple flower up closer to her eyes, "...It's a crocus flower...do you know what they symbolize?"

Gilbert rocked back on his heels, "I'm sure you would be delighted to tell me."

She bit her lip, "It's a gift of happiness from one person to another, no matter how tough root of the relationship between them is."

"Well..." he teased, looking down at the tiny flower between them, "...although our friendship started off with a pretty tough root, I hope that after the day you've had, that it will cheer you up."

Anne's eyes turned sweet, "It already has."

"As your _friend_ , I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything..." his eyes turned earnest, "...I'll always be here if something is upsetting you, or if you need help with one of those _ridiculous adventures_ of yours."

She giggled, "I don't think you would be able to keep up with me."

"I promise I'll try to."

The words sounded like a promise, like they were sharing secrets with only the glowing sunset there to witness it. Anne could only hope that it would keep the promises of their future safe until they were ready to take the risk together, jumping _hand in hand_.

He was soon tipping his hat towards her, hands finding their place inside his pockets but as he backed away from the fence, those autumn eyes kept her clutching the wooden panels for stability. She feared that if she let go, a slight breeze would knock her over. On his way back down the lane, he almost tripped over a twig because he wasn't paying attention to the path and she pressed a hand over her face so that he couldn't see her smiling. The tiny flower was still between her finger tips and she twirled it back and forth as she watched him disappear into the trees. When she lifted it to her nose, it still smelled fresh and she was reminded of a familiar phrase. The words buried themselves underneath the awaiting soil in her heart, seeds that she knew would grow with time until her chest was filled with nothing but the sweetness of flowers.

**_A casual declaration, a quiet attention - to someone you like._ **

**Author's Note:**

> I know that this is a scary time, with all of us left confused and worried about what is going to happen to the world that we know, but I hope that any of these fanfics can help to make you smile at least for a moment. I'm sending everyone my love and hope that you and your loved ones stay safe and healthy. 
> 
> p.s. please comment any requests, as I have uni work from home now, I'll have a lot more free time to churn out as many fluffy one shots as you want!
> 
> \- jodie


End file.
